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Amazri IV, formally Lor Space
March 1, 2015 (Terran Calendar)

Amazri IV had long sat well inside the boarders of Lor space, many light years from the contested area with Khanate space. The planet had long been a colony for the Lor, established in the early years of their expansion from Lor-Van. It had developed into one of the Republic's primary centers of industry and manufacturing, with vast automated facilities that covered the northern and southern landscapes of several of its vast continents. Most of the large cities on Amazri IV had been located around its equator, where lush green forests spread out around the cities before giving way to high mountainous zones.

Now more than half its surface had become silver colored metal, and even from space it appeared as if veins of the silver metal were continuing to spread towards the rest of the planet. Amazri IV was one of the most recent Lor planets to fall to the Communion, the cyberforming of the planet still underway.

A group of the Coalition's top scientists had determined that the cyberforming process provided the most direct access to the Communion's central data centers, with the least protections in place to prevent unauthorized access. In short, if the Coalition was going to learn the whereabouts of the Communion's mothership, it would be by gaining access to one of the central relays on a world being cyberformed.

So a small group of Coalition forces were aboard a Grue stealth ship, making their final approach to Amazri IV.

"We will be at our target location within ten microcycles." Stated Gur'ul, the Grue Metamorph in command of the stealth ship, turning back to look at the odd collection of beings that he had been ordered to transport to Amarzi IV.

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"You can't just- you can't just up and leave the planet," the voice on the other side of the comm insisted. It matched the face on the screen: Lor, male, and exhausted. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week, and considering what had been going on, he probably hadn't. The poor witness security officer's job hadn't been easy when he'd had the full resources of the home Lor office at his disposal...and with that floating in space somewhere, dust or worse, he looked like he'd aged a decade since the last time Wraith had seen him. "How did you even get off-planet? You need to turn around and head back off that station, back to Earth, for your safety. Your parents will be worried sick."

"My parents are willing to sit on Earth while people die!" Wraith insisted, three eyes narrowed into angry slits. "Just because Kinigos has not been hit yet does not mean it will not, and we do not have the population to fight even so well as your people did. We had citizens on Lor. I cannot sit idle-"

She'd expected more argument out of him, but she cut off when she realized he was just...looking at her, over the comm. "....I had a daughter there, you know. Two cousins, too, and a granddaughter on the way. I can't even pay my respects because I'm too tied up keeping my charges from running off without any direction."

"I...I am sorry. I did not mean to...."

"...no, I don't think you did. Okay, listen, Dirinai," he continued, face difficult to read as he brought up something on a screen outside the comm's view. "I don't know half of what you've been up to on Earth, but the half I do know is terrifying. Under no circumstances are you to sneak onto any military transport vessels, like the one at dock 12, because they're all headed to Coalition bases from where you are. And you are absolutely not to make it to a base without being seen, because if they found out one of the universe's deadliest hunters made it all that way without being caught by the Lor's finest, they'd probably pull strings and look you up. And if they found half of what I've written, they'd find some use for you and that would be entirely unacceptable. You need to stay put, because I'm going to send a patrol transport over to pick you up. When I get around to it. So you can't have run off by the time they get there in maybe...three Earth hours. Do you understand?"

Wraith's head cocked to the side, eyes widening to their normal almond shape as she took that in. "I...yes. Thank you, it...thank you."

"Mm-hm. Don't thank me, you menace. Remember: stay put. And...give 'em hell."


Amorphous metal beings had comparatively little need for seats - at least, seats not designed for them. It took about as much energy to hold herself into a seat-friendly shape as it did to just stand, so she'd opted to free the space by remaining as out-of-the-way as possible...which in this case meant clinging to the ceiling, a four-legged space-boogeyman hanging out above everyone's heads to give them more room to get comfortable. As comfortable as they could be on a little stealth ship, anyway.

Getting this job had been surprisingly easy; Kinigosi had...something of a reputation, given their distinctly alien nature and the natural savagery of their comparatively untamed planet. Wraith was more concerned with coming back from this job than the occasional looks she got - but if she didn't come back, she'd at least go out doing something worthwhile. It was about all she could have asked for. And hey, with Ghost Girl along, she'd have someone to show her the spectral ropes....

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The specter in question had even less need for a seat than her viscous friend but a chair designed for a humanoid at least had cultural resonance for Ghost Girl, and so she hovered a centimeter or so above the seat's actual surface, legs crossed in a seated pose with her hands folded politely in her lap as she grinned cheerfully up at Wraith. When Indira had explained her intention to stow away on the ship of another alien living incognito on Earth, one heading for greener pastures after the attack by what they'd eventually learned was called 'the Communion', Kimber had immediately insisted on accompanying her. Explanations as to the danger involved had only made her more resolute; besides, with Eve spending most of the winter with her girlfriend the Dutemps Building had been feeling more than a little empty. They might even run into Sharl!
 
Now that she'd had a chance to see the Communion's work up close she was even more glad she'd tagged along. The way it used nanobots to reanimate the dead and turn them into shrieking foot soldiers in particular really got her metaphorical blood boiling. They weren't even proper zombies! Imagine, appropriating legitimate undead imagery like that. Rude didn't even begin to cover it. If this mission helped to stop them from hurting anyone else, Ghost Girl was all for it and she could make sure Wraith made it home in one piece, too. One blob, anyway.

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Dragonid stared grimly at the approaching planet. They say it had once been a thriving center of civilization. A civilization now dead, its remains being swept under a metallic wasteland. A worse fate than the communion's planetkiller, perhaps.
 
The six-foot dragonman stretched his arms toward the ceiling. The muscles under his red scaled skin were tense and knotted. He had spent most of the trip lodged uncomfortably in one of the stealth-ship's seats. Maybe the creature clinging to the ceiling had the right idea and he should have refused the chair.
 
Dragonid still didn't know what to make of the Coalition the Praetorians had joined. He didn't know if this mission would really show them the way to the Communion's head so they could chop it off. He didn't know what to make of the strange allies he'd been stuck with on this ship. But at least Kharag was here. He could at least trust his fellow Praetorian to stand with him for a good fight.
 
"Can this thing stay hidden all the way to the ground?" he asked the pilot. 
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There had hardly been stranger days for Kharag. In between his awakening two thousand years later and now this strange, implausible alliance between the Praetorians, the Lor and the Grue things had certainly been truly unusual. Now added to that were these beings (including a seemingly dead one) supposedly from some planet called 'earth' , which he had never heard of. Still, an ally was an ally but he couldn't thinking these circumstances were highly unusual.

 

"Yet another world consumed by an endless metallic horde of soulless creatures." Commented Kharag as they approached the planet. It was clear that, even for an alien of a warrior race all that destruction and carnage left a rather sour taste on him. There was nothing enjoyable in fighting an ennemy that had no soul or no drive beyond a programmed urge to simply assimilate and reduce it's opponents to mindless puppets and empty shells.

Edited by RobRX
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A small group of Lor military technicians were seated further back in the stealth ship, their expressions a combination of discomfort and fascination at being inside the Grue vessel. Gur'ul regarded the Lor for a brief moment before focusing back on the other occupants, his eyes casting upward to regard Wraith as she hung from the ceiling before focusing back on Dragonid. "That really depends on how powerful the Communion sensors are down there. The Unity has lost stealth ships to them in other sectors, but others have managed to pass through Communion systems undisturbed."

With that the metamorph turned back to overseeing the stealth ships descent into the planet's atmosphere. There was a slight tremor that could be felt by the occupants as the Grue vessel entered the atmosphere before the drone pilot adjusted for the wind and other variables.

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Bliss sat in her suit, waiting.  Well, sort of sat, in that she was upside down, with those tendrils gripping at the ceiling as she remained in that position through most of the time they were travelling.  She was here... because... reasons.  She didn't like her homeworld, the xenophobic, insular insane lot that lived there.  But she had no desire to see that happen to them.  Or anyone else.

 

Sure she had the maternal moment with the boy, but after they grabbed that little holo plan, she knew they were in a bigger universe than just their needs.   "Not the first suicide mission I've been on.  At least this one has more of a point."

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"If you were on them and are still here, they were not truly suicide missions," Wraith politely pointed out to her fellow ceiling-dweller, head rotating bonelessly to regard the hanging alien. "And I do not think we shall be so easy to kill. Or able to be killed, perhaps!"

She punctuated the amused-sounding point by extending a tendril and poking it through Ghost Girl, taking a moment to quickly translate the conversation into English. "It is a useful advantage, I think. Besides, we are...hmm. Wandering into an insect hive? If we are quiet, and quick, and do no harm, we are perhaps beneath notice for long enough to get what we need and leave. Possibly."

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The sound Bliss made was a rasping chitter, perhaps a laugh.  Her Galstandard slightly accented and harsh, but that was nothing new for anyone here, except Ghost Girl.  "A stink ape is still a stink ape, even when it doesn't smell.  Living through a suicide mission doesn't make it less a suicide mission.  Luck, providence, skill, or a combination of the three made you avoid a fate."  He lips twisted about as she slowly pushed herself into a standing position, with her tendrils still keeping her 'down' as the ceiling.

 

Then she bonelessly craned her head to regard one of the view screens or some sort of thing relating to their descent.  The expression was unreadable for a moment, and then she did what amounted for a smile for her kind.  "Nnnrrrrr..."  She made a pleased sound, unable to hide the delight at defying such a massive foe, at working towards the defeat of this monolithic thing.  She was not a rebel so changing her world was outside of her reach, but this... this was right up her alley.

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"That is certainly how we are hoping this mission will proceed." One of the Lor military technicians replied as Wraith suggested they might be able to go about their mission without attracting any attention. "But of course, you and the others are here should things now proceed that way."

The Grue metamorph gave something of a derisive grunt as he focused back on the controls. "At least you are not so foolish to rely solely on unrealistic expectations, but perhaps you will prove able to avoid detection and complete our objectives without interference."

"At least we appear to be doing well thus far." The Grue then added as the stealth ship came down closer to the surface, the main viewscreen displaying a large city that was half converted into the silver Computonium growing ever closer. "We are closing in on our target location, and thus far no signs of detection."

One of the Lor technicians pulled up an image of the city on a smaller holodisplay that appeared to one side of the metamoprh. It showed a particular section of the city, one that was already cyberformed. "We need to land as close as we can to this location. Our analysis of the cyberforming process on other worlds suggests this is the most likely location in which to gain access to the Communion's central network."

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Kimber's cheery laughter was like bright bells as Indira translated the conversation for her. <"It sure gives me a lot to worry about! Should probably try to keep 'already dead' off of everybody else's resumes if we can help it, though."> There was no way of knowing for sure what sort of conditions were needed to make alien ghosts, after all! They probably also didn't want to die, which was really the bigger issue when she thought about it for a moment. <"Gosh, though, I don't think I ever really appreciated how rad it was that you learned some Earth languages. I should have been picking so space talk up from you this whole time! I feel like such a tourist! Like... an American tourist, I mean. I thought the Grue were for sure bad guys but Gur'ul seems neat! Thanks again for the ride, Gur'ul!"> The poltergeist waved to their pilot with a wide grin, figuring he would at least catch the gist, having recognized his name. Unnecessarily, she lowered her voice to a whisper as she added, <"D'you think it would be super rude to ask what all these guys' deal is? The upside down guy purrs!">

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"<The language learning was not by choice,>" Wraith replied in English, with the flat tone of voice of someone who wasn't even enjoying the memory of those times much. Having been roommates, Ghost Girl would have had no illusions as to Wraith's impatience with sitting down and studying. "<My native language and...I think some Terrans call it 'galstandard'?...were easier; like many races, Kinigosi learn languages faster when very young. Earth languages were...not easy.>"

Her head descended from her body like a drop of mercury, and she didn't so much turn to look at the screen as slide her three eyes around its surface to orient her view. "An urban area is good, though a mixed blessing," she noted, pausing to translate for Ghost Girl while memorizing as much of the area's layout as she could given the information on hand. "Plenty of cover, good hiding spots, excellent for stealth while still allowing for fast travel if needed. Good climbing. Many ambush sites and abundant opportunities for enemy emplacements, though; that may not work in our favor if they design ground defenses around their networks."

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"What do we see of Communion activity in the area?" asked Dragonid, "Good that we are not seen yet, but once we leave the ship and approach the network that may change. I would like to know what to expect and how quickly."

He approached for a closer look at the viewscreen, as the metallic creature dripped down from the ceilling. "If it is already transformed here, there may be little reason for the Communion to pay much attention. Their work is destroying the landscape elsewhere."

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"Either way it does not matter if we have been seen or not. Confrontation with the Communion is nothing if not inevitable. I would say I fully relish the thought but that would be quite the lie. The Communion is a despicable and disgusting metallic blight. Just touching one to break it revulse me." Commented Kharag, bluntly but openly admitting his disgust at engaging their foe. There was simply no pleasure in fighting something as devoid of passion and as a souless.

 

He turned his head, looking at the metallic creature currently on the ceilling. 'And what might you be?' The alien asked telepathically to the other alien. 'I did not have the luxury of asking you until now. I will assume you are not a form of Communion drone, despite the metallic form.'

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Wraith's expression at the telepathy was difficult to read, in that her only facial features were her trio of eyes, but their expression as she turned to look at him was apparently...surprise? Surprise and a minor dislike for being touched mentally, maybe. "I am Kinigosi," she replied, aloud. Her metal form dropped from the ceiling, what had been her head splitting into a pair of humanoid legs while the rest of her formed a similarly humanoid upper body, eyes reappearing on the still-featureless but now-less-inhuman face.

"And, no, I am not related to the Communion...nor am I mechanical or some form of nanomachine being," she added, having apparently had this conversation before. Still, her tone was polite as ever. "Though, yes, I am made of metal; we are shapeshifters. I do agree that this Communion is unworthy of being good prey, though - we have hunted worse, my friend and I, but not by much."

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"Pffeh. A shapeshifter." Spoke up Kharag, somewhat disgusted by the concept. Still, now that he was having a conversation with the metallic creature, he had to recognise it as a person and as such immediately switched back to spoken language out ot habit. Unless the situation required it, Kharag vastly preffered talking via more mundane means rather than the more private telepathic communication. To him, being heard by everyone was more honest and 'civilized'. "So does that make you a creature of deceit, if you have no set form? How does a mercurial and changing being like you define itself?"

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Wraith just looked at the strange green man for a moment, trying to form the sum of her life experience into words. She was warrior caste, though, neither scholar nor artist - eventually she just shrugged. "You could accuse me of deceit, though it is not my preference. I am a hunter - I become what I must to better stalk and defeat my prey. I believe you are asking after my character, however, and not my body. I suppose...."

"I suppose I am me," she replied, gesturing with three-clawed hands as if it was self-evident. "It is enough."

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Gur'ul glanced briefly over at Ghost Girl as he heard his name mentioned in her talk with Wraith, not seeming quite sure what to make of the ghostly Terran or her cheerful disposition. So the metamorph focused back at his control panel as he guided the stealth ship down into the half-cyberformed city.

"There are bound to be Communion antibodies active in the vicinity of where we are headed." The Lor technician stated, clearly not very comfortable with the fact himself. "But how active they will be is harder to determine."

"You may learn soon enough." Gur'ul interjected. "We are touching down."

There was a slight lurch as the metamorph brought the stealth ship about and it rapidly descended the last few dozen yards to just above the surface, before rapidly decelerating once more and then gently settling down in a small courtyard between several buildings. On the viewscreens showing the area outside the ship, everything was still. The ground, buildings, even what appeared to have been some sort of plants, all were grey, having been converted to Computonium. There was no visible movement in the immediate area, and no signs of any Communion.

"It would appear you are clear to disembark." Gur'ul stated, as the Lor technicians unstrapped themselves and began gathering their equipment and weapons.

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Even if Wraith didn't translate the entirety of her exchange with the green-blue skinned alien with the bony ridges, Ghost Girl picked up on the unmistakable disgust in his tone, followed by a pause and the carefully controlled politeness that characterized her best friend's speech in any language. Leaning forward in her seat she glared at Kharag. <"Is this guy being space racist?"> she asked Indira in English, still looking at the Praetorian. As she did, the visage of a young, living albeit blue woman flickered briefly, like an electric light threatening to burn out, replaced for a split second by a skull with hollow sockets that nevertheless managed to convey her pending ire. The specter was gone as quickly as it came and replaced by a look of irritation that would have been more at home in a high school lunch room than a graveyard. <"'Cause it sounds like he's being a big space racist.">
 
Before the conversation could advance any further the ship touched down and the phantom straightened her back in excitement. <"Ooh, new planet!"> Without waiting she simply slipped through the back of her seat and the bulkhead of the ship, passing effortlessly outside to look around.

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After the ship touched down, Dragonid stood up and fitted his winged jetpack to his back, he hoped it would not be too bulky for moving through close quarters. There might not be much need to fly if things went as planned, but best to keep options open for the rapid escape.
 
 "Just try not to look too much like the communion when the fighting starts. You probably do not burn, but I do not want to flameyou anyway." Dragonid said to Wraith, as he looked his companions over again. "I am Dragonid of the Praetorians," he introduced himself, somewhat belatedly. "Watch my back, and I will protect yours."
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"Wraith, of the Kinigosi," the metal alien replied. "It is a pleasure to meet all of you; I hope for a good hunt."

She disembarked by somewhat more mundane means than her companion, casting her gaze around the landing site and reaching out with finely-tuned senses for predators...or prey. "We will want to leave this area quickly," she noted, head rippling as she started to extend some odd spine-like structures before apparently thinking better of it. "If the ship was noticed, anything coming to investigate should not find us here. If the ship was not noticed, we gain time."

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As he prepared to set foot on the planet, Kharag's expression turned to outright disgust, far more than simply talking with a potentially untrustworthy shapeshifter ever would. Briefly, he hesitated, tapping the ground with the tip of his exposed toes. Toes with long, sharp dark blue nail. With a grunt, he walked out of the ship.

 

"Disgusting. Simply, disgusting. To think this used to be a world teeming with life and the clamour of souls, now reduced to nothing but a cold, dead and soulless metallic husk."

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Dragonid stepped out of the ship and immediately was struck by the silence. No living things, no people, just cold metal. He had come to expect it while on a spaceship or space station. But it was jarring on the surface of a planet.

He looked around the area for movement, seeking any sign of active Communion. He expected the hordes of mindless drones to jump out at any moment. They were out there, he knew, ready to overrun them. "Let us find what we came here for, then. The faster the better." He hung back to watch the rear.

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Bliss had stopped caring with the exchanges, that little smile and the strange sound in her throat.  She didn't know the Kingosi apart from reputation, and she imagined that no one knew her people, as they never really left their backwater world.  Slowly she descended from the ceiling and the tendrils slide back into her arms, righting herself to her feet with a boneless grace, before she stepped after then.  

 

"If there is need, call me Bliss."  She stopped, and lifted head head, and made short, sharp inhalations, trying to pick up scent.  "Metal, and plastics.  Cold."  As her strange eyes looked into a different spectrum than most of them.  She moved ahead of them quickly, sniffing and peering, looking for... things?  She adapted to her role as scout, though she knew there were two others more adapted towards that, she was still searching.  She made a sound like chittering and grating things, before speaking in her harsh voice.  "I wont be able to smell anything."  And then she tapped the button on her chest to have the helmet form over her head, preferring that to anything else.

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"May your hunt find success." Gur'ul offered as the odd collection of passengers debarked from the stealth ship and onto the surface of Amazri IV. "We will remain here as long as possible, but may need to become airborne once more if detected. If so, we will do our best to remain nearby."

The area surrounding the stealth ship was still and quiet, the air itself seeming listless and sterile. All around them nearly everything was the same dull grey, the only splashes of color being some trees and plants that adorned the streets. However, upon a slightly closer examination, it appeared even that was soon to change, as the trunks of the plants were already the same grey as most everything else, and it was apparent that the color was spreading into the leaves as well.

Many of the buildings nearby had signs and displays that clearly would have once been various colors. Now all were the same sheen of grey that covered the streets, buildings and everything else. What was even more strange was that from some of the buildings, the grey had seemed to pour out of openings and windows, coming down like a waterfall, only to then be frozen in place.

There was no sign of any bodies, living or dead, just empty streets and buildings.

The Lor technicians followed the others out, gripping their weapons nervously as they went. "That way." The chief technician stated as he pointed off away from the landing zone.

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